Chapter Twenty-Four

6K 376 112
                                    

Blake and I finished our project the next day. We basically wrote paragraphs in between each of our classes, desperately trying to get something on the paper. Blake thought our essay sucked.

He kept looking at it in dismay. "Shit, this is due tomorrow. It's the worst thing I've ever written."

I leaned over his shoulder. "I think this actually might be the best thing I've ever written. I can't believe we met the page requirement. I always thought that was more of a suggestion."

Blake groaned and dropped his head into his hands. "Jake, dude. You're amazing, I am super into you and all, but you're actually the worst partner ever."

"You're evil. I gave it my best effort. You're just judgmental, Beckson."

"Guys!" a random girl said, skipping on up to me and Blake. What was her name again? Melissa? Morgan?

"Hey, Michaela," Blake said, looking a little awkward.

Riiight. This was the girl who asked bluntly about our sex lives.

"So!" She clapped her hands. "Here's my idea. I'm thinking what we're going to do is add a third box when voting for prom king or queen that says 'Jake and Blake.' It's only fair that you guys get a shot."

"Prom is months away," I sighed, wishing this girl wasn't so obsessed with our relationship.

"I'm just saying!" Michaela exclaimed. "If they try to move the box we can post about it on the internet and say it's a hate crime. Then one of you could sue the school for millions of dollars."

I perked up. "I'm broke and I'm listening."

Blake smacked my stomach. "Chill out, asshole. We're not suing the school for millions of dollars."

I sulked.

"Besides, the fall ball is coming up—"

"The what?" I snorted. "The fall ball? That is the dumbest, least creative name I have ever heard."

Blake poked my stomach. "Dude, don't be annoying. It's the most recent dance. There's the fall ball, the snowball, the spring fling, then prom. Didn't you know that?"

I was too busy snickering at the horrible names our school came up with to respond. Blake rolled his eyes.

"And since you're my boyfriend now, we're going to all of them together," Blake declared, looking determined. My laughter died in a second.

"Aw!" Michaela squealed. "You guys are such icons."

I hated Michaela more and more each day.

"I'd rather break up with Blake than go to the stupid fall ball," I growled. "Sorry if that ruins your gay fangirl dreams."

Blake actually looked a little sad about missing out on the dances, which really shouldn't have shocked me. If I hadn't learned already from his ugly joggers and vans, Blake liked to follow the crowd and do cringy things.

Michaela's jaw dropped. "Wait," she said in a very loud voice. "You're telling me, Blake will have nobody to go with to fall ball?"

I was super confused until I noticed greasy Gabe right across the hallway perk up his greasy tail and grin a greasy grin.

"No!" I yelled. "I was kidding, obviously I'm taking Blake to fall ball. Jesus, what's with all the weird school dances I'm committing to?"

Gabe greasily frowned and went back to minding his business. I glared, just in case he decided to pay attention to my boyfriend one more time. Michaela winked at Blake and walked away.

Blake patted my shoulder. "You really don't have to worry about Gabe. Obviously. I don't want to make you go to the fall ball if you aren't interested in going. I know you're still, I don't know, embarrassed?"

I tugged off my sweatshirt and shoved it at Blake. "Remember the day you wore my sweatshirt to school?"

His deadpan look proved that, after approximately a day of dating, he was already sick of my shit. "Are you avoiding emotional vulnerability by trying to change the topic?"

He was useless. I began to wrestle the sweatshirt over his head. "Wear this. So slimy, GREASY, GAYS realize that you're MINE."

Gabe looked over and hurried away. Good riddance.

"Keep walking, Gabe!" I yelled after him.

Gabe tripped, dropped a book, looked back and realized it wasn't worth stopping, and broke into a jog.

By the time my boyfriend appeared again, he was wearing my sweatshirt and his hair was floofed from static electricity. He was also glaring. "Did you know," he began testily. "That you have a very difficulty personality?"

I straightened my sweatshirt over his shoulders and kissed his forehead. "There we go," I decided. "Now he'll stay away."

The forehead kiss did not soothe my boyfriend's angry scowl. "You're also a bully," he continued. "You owe Gabe an apology. Or, like, twelve apologies."

"He needs to stop drooling after you," I growled, wrapping my arms around my boyfriend and kissing his temple. "You're obviously taken. We're going to do that stupid box idea too, so greasy and trombone don't win prom king and king."

"You're an awful person, dude. I hate you, low-key."

We obviously had a very normal and functional relationship.

I ruffled his hair and scanned the hallways for treacherous sluts like Alana and Gabe. "When is this ball again? I need to prepare for socialization about a week in advance."

"It's tomorrow, dipshit."

"On a Tuesday?!"

"Bruh," Blake sighed, turning his baseball cap backwards in typical straight boy fashion. He was also wearing very baggy jeans and a shirt with pickles on it and, which I took to be some sort of declaration that he liked penis. "Get over it. It's a dumb little dance. Let's just go, hang out with friends, maybe dance together?"

I had never been to a school dance before. Did people get drunk? Did Blake do that white person thing where he kept his feet in place and bounced his knees? I did not really want to know.

"Okay, so here's the plan," Blake said, and those were beginning to be my least favorite words. "We should totally wear bi and gay themed shirts."

I did not want to do that. "No way in hell," I growled.

Blake grabbed my hands and I felt a spark of affection. He gave me puppy dog eyes, big green eyes looking sweet and innocent. His kissable mouth wobbled. My heart completely melted. "Please?"

"Fine," I growled.

Blake's eyes lit up. "You are starry-eyed! That's so hot. You're awesome. I like you. Time for class."

With one last quick kiss on the cheek, my boyfriend scampered away from me, leaving me with my cheeks fuming.

Love and Other Diseases (bxb)Where stories live. Discover now